countessian

sweat + flash = monotonix

(And hair. A lot of hair.) They’re playing on top of a dumpster, no less. It was pretty caved in afterwards. Sorry, Hangar 1018.

The night before they played (yeah, the whole band) held aloft by the crowd, almost getting me kicked out of the venue in the process.

It wasn’t the standing on the stage along with twenty other people taking pictures that got me in trouble, more like the taking a picture of the face of the security guard who felt it necessary to jab me repeatedly in the arm because his mother never taught him to tap someone on the shoulder like a normal person. I moved immediately, of course, but he kept at it even when I yelled at him to stop. Seriously, this bloke was a foot taller than me and at least double my weight, probably more.

I meet a lot of security guards and most seem entirely professional and human and sometimes even really nice, but then there are always those insecure few who apparently relish the opportunity to bruise people half their size. This one must’ve not got enough hugs as a child, poor idiot. (For much worse, I refer you to the Great Fuck Yeah Fest VideoThing Hollywood Bowl Melee of 2008.)

Anyway, all was fun and my bruises are fading.

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This entry was posted on Wednesday, September 3rd, 2008 at 12:35 pm. It is filed under documentary. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed.